


Postscript

by mrs260



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs260/pseuds/mrs260
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian reflects on his life after many years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postscript

My life after DS9 unfolded as I never could have imagined.

I could have stayed there, with Ezri, trying to relive Jadzia's life   
with her... fooling myself and everyone.

Instead, I went to Cardassia.

On the surface, I was the pretty alien prize of a professor of Hebitian   
literature at New Lakarian University... at least for a time. Only   
Garak called me pretty after I passed sixty.

I taught xenomicrobiology and immunology seminars at the graduate   
level, and practised at a hospital that took alien patients.

At the same time I was the mitigating influence behind the new   
Cardassia. I involved myself in rebuilding and maintaining a fascist   
state, arguing with Garak over the problems that had caused its fall   
the first time. He always listened to me, even implemented my wishes   
occasionally -- he guaranteed the protection of political criticism in   
academic discourse, for example. It was partly selfish, of course... he   
enjoyed arguing with me in the faculty lounge.

Finally, I was a spy. Garak knew, I'm sure, that I was working both for him   
and for Section 31, loyal only to my conscience, choosing sides as   
my own ethics dictated.

I loved him... I still love him. We both knew we could trust each other   
in that, even if the spy game put us at odds occasionally.

In the end, I can't be sorry for what I've done.

He knew... I could feel it in the set of his shoulders as I embraced   
him from behind, a sob escaping from deep within my chest as I slid the   
knife between his ribs. He turned around, smiled sadly, and kissed my   
forehead gently. "I understand," he whispered as he sank to his knees.

~~~

END  
Mark


End file.
